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by PhaiFan



Category: Alexander (2004)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-15 00:14:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11219211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhaiFan/pseuds/PhaiFan
Summary: "On the tenth of June, a month short of his 33rd year, Alexander's great heart finally gave out. And, as he vowed, he joined Hephaistion. But in his short life he achieved, without doubt, the mythic glory of his ancestor; Achilles. And more."     - Alexander, 2004This is my tribute to honor Alexander on the anniversary of his death. I hope he approves.





	1. Chapter 1

Alexander smiled and closed his eyes, stretched out on a soft blanket. The sun was warm on his skin, and soothing to his sore, tired muscles. "It's beautiful here, isn't it Hephaestion?"

"It is." Hephaestion agreed quietly. He fixed his warm gaze on Alexander, pleased to see him relaxed and at peace. "It reminds me of our days in Mieza and Pella." He sighed wistfully. "Those were simpler times."

Alexander sat up and scooted back a little so he could rest his back against the trunk of an old apple tree, heavy with ripe, red fruit. He winced slightly at the soreness in his back. He selected an apple from the basket Hephaestion had picked and bit into the crisp flesh, licking the juice from his lips. He smiled fondly at Hephaestion, who was quietly watching him. "I remember quite a few days…and nights…spent in the orchard." He chuckled. "Do you remember the apples you used to leave on my bed when we were young? It took me a while to figure out where they were coming from, but I was very happy when I discovered it was you."

Hephaestion chuckled softly. "I remember." He turned his gaze to the gently flowing stream just down the hill, his mind filled with pleasant memories. It was a scene he never grew tired of – days of their youth spent laughing and learning to love in the seclusion of their little corner of the orchard. He shifted back under the tree, pouring them each a cup of wine before settling next to Alexander, their shoulders touching. He sniffed the air appreciatively, the sweet scent of apples and green grass filling his nostrils.

Alexander took the cup of wine that Hephaestion poured for him and drank deep. "You know, Hephaestion, I think this is the best wine I've ever had. Where did you get it?"

"I'm glad you like it." A soft smile curved Hephaestion's lips. "There's plenty more where that came from."

Alexander didn't seem to notice that Hephaestion didn't answer his question. "Do you remember the first time we stole an amphora of unwatered wine? Gods…we were so drunk." He grinned at Hephaestion. "Do you remember what you did?" Alexander laughed. "You kissed Cassander! I didn't think Ptolemy would ever let you live that down!"

Hephaestion shook his head, chuckling. "Please…that's one thing I'd really rather forget about." He smiled gently at Alexander. "We have had some good times, you and I."

Alexander closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree trunk, a smile playing on his lips. "We did." Opening his eyes, he glanced sideways at Hephaestion. "Do you remember Troy?"

Hephaestion nodded. "It was such an honor to be there…an even bigger honor to run our race and lay tribute on their tombs." He reached out and tenderly stroked Alexander's cheek. "I remember the young man who wanted to be Achilles, and then out did him."

That made Alexander smile wider. He turned to Hephaestion, love clearly written on his face. "I could never have done any of it without you, my Patroclus." He took another drink of wine and sighed contentedly. "So much we've done, so much we've seen." His expression sobered. "Not all of it was good, though, was it? There were lots of very difficult times." He frowned. "Especially for you."

Hephaestion sat quietly, saying nothing. He laid his hand over Alexander's and laced their fingers together.

"Hephaestion, tell me the truth. Do you regret any of it? Do you ever wish you hadn't followed me halfway around the world? Do you…do you ever wish you'd never fallen in love with me?"

"No! I have never regretted that!" Hephaestion shook his head emphatically. "Falling in love with you, and then learning that you loved me in return…there is nothing I wanted more. I was blessed by the gods, truly." He smiled gently. "I got to be with the real 'Alexander', not just 'King Alexander'. I knew who you were deep inside, and I vowed my life to you. Never, never sorry for that."

Alexander was quiet for a moment, squeezing Hephaestion's hand and obviously deep in thought. "I wasn't always good to you. I got so caught up in everything. I wanted everything, regardless of how you might have felt. I mean…Bagoas…that was inexcusable. I know that hurt you, even though you hid it well. I knew it, and I did it anyway. And Roxane…I know you hated her. She hated you, too. I should never have married her at your expense."

"Alexander, you needed an heir. I may not have been pleased with your choice, but who was I to deny you that?"

Alexander snorted, obviously irritated. "Well, that hasn't worked out so well, has it?"

Hephaestion squeezed his hand again, reassuringly, his voice soft, soothing. "Heir or not, your legacy will live forever. You are the greatest man to ever live, and you will be remembered forever as just that. The greatest ever. You may not have had Homer to write your story like Achilles, but you have better. The whole world will write of you. The whole world will remember you, and none will ever best you." A smile curved Hephaestion's lips. "Fear not, Alexander. You will live forever."

That seemed to please Alexander. He returned the smile, leaning forward to press the lightest of kisses to Hephaestion's lips. "You always know the perfect thing to say." Wincing slightly, he arched his body, rubbing a sore spot in the small of his back. His smiled faded. "I feel a bit like I've been in a battle, Hephaestion, though I haven't been in one recently. I'm sore all over." He exhaled heavily, suddenly feeling like his limbs were made of lead. "I'm so tired, too." He looked at Hephaestion, perplexed. "Why am I so tired, Hephaestion?"

Hephaestion closed his eyes briefly, composing himself, before giving Alexander a warm, gentle smile. "Why don't you lie down and rest for a while?" He cleared the basket of apples and the wine from the blanket, and placed a small pillow on it beside him. "Lie down."

A very sore and tired Alexander didn't argue. He slid down and stretched out on his back on the blanket, his head resting on the pillow beside Hephaestion's legs. With a soft sigh, he closed his eyes and snuggled his face against Hephaestion's thigh. "I love you, Hephaestion."

Hephaestion tenderly brushed a sweat-dampened curl from Alexander's forehead. "Sleep, Alexander. I'll be right here."

As he drifted off, Alexander smiled faintly. "You always are."


	2. Chapter 2

Perdiccas sat wearily in the chair closest to the bed. He rubbed his bleary eyes and sat up, blinking to clear his vision. A hand laid gently on his shoulder startled him, and he turned his head quickly to find that Ptolemy had come up behind him.

"How is he?"

Perdiccas shook his head. "Not good. His fever is worsening, and nothing Philip has given him seems to help."

Ptolemy sighed and dropped down into a chair beside Perdiccas. "I wish I knew what to do."

They sat silently for a while, unsure of what to say. Soft footsteps came up behind them.

"Sometimes he seems like he's just sleeping. Like nothing is wrong" Nearchus said softly.

"I know", Perdiccas said. "I've been sitting here for hours. Sometimes he seems agitated and his breathing becomes labored, but then the next minute…it's like some sort of calm comes over him. I swear, it even looks like he smiled a couple times. He's mumbled something a few times, but I couldn't make out what he said." He shook his head. "Well, there was one word I managed to make out."

Ptolemy turned to him. "Let me guess…"

"Yes, it was hard to hear, but I'm sure he said his name, more than once." Perdiccas sighed softly. "You know, whatever your opinion was of him, there was no question that Alexander loved him deeply."

Perdiccas nodded. "Alexander was never the same, after…." He left the rest unsaid.

"I know" Ptolemy agreed. "He became even more ruthless towards those we fought, like he was offering all of the dead up as a sacrifice in Hephaestion's honor. When we weren't in battle, though…I don't know. It just seemed like a lot of the fire that made him what he was had burned out."

They watched silently for a moment, feeling helpless. Ptolemy rose and walked to the back of the room, pouring himself a much-needed cup of wine. Perdiccas and Nearchus soon followed suit. They turned at once upon hearing someone enter the room.

Wearing a scowl, Cassander walked slowly into the room and approached the bed. He hadn't been in since the previous day, and he was shocked at how much worse Alexander looked. He felt his heart lurch, but swore he would dine in Hades before he would admit how troubled he really was. Part of him was almost glad, in a way. Alexander was not the same man he once was, and a great many of the men had grown to resent him. Cassander nearly jumped out of his skin when Nearchus and Ptolemy moved up beside him.

"He looks bad." Nearchus shook his head. "Very bad."

Ptolemy glanced at Cassander just in time to see a fleeting glimpse of sadness before the mask went up. He tried to be sympathetic. "It's okay, Cassander. It's okay to be sad. We certainly are."

Cassander snorted and glared at them, before turning on his heel and brushing brusquely past the others and out of the room.

Perdiccas caught Nearchus' eye, shrugged, and turned his attention back to the bed. Alexander mumbled something and shifted restlessly, before releasing a slow breath. His body visibly relaxed and his breathing evened out.

Ptolemy shook his head. "It's been like this for days, gradually getting worse."

Once again, they stood silently. A soft sniffling was heard as Bagoas wiped Alexander's feverish brow with a cool cloth. It was obvious that he had been crying a lot.

"It was good of you to take him in, you know" Perdiccas said.

Ptolemy nodded. "He had nowhere else to go. Regardless of how any of us felt about him, Alexander cared for him, and there's no doubt that the kid loves Alexander. I figured I could at least offer him a safe place to stay where he won't be abused. I owe it to Alexander I think."

The men stepped aside when Philip entered. They watched the doctor check Alexander, feeling his forehead and listening to his breathing. Philip looked up at them, shaking his head sadly.

"How long?" Nearchus asked.

"I don't know. Hours, maybe. There's nothing else I can do. He's in the hands of the gods now." Philip quietly left the room, still shaking his head.  
The three men returned to their bedside vigil.

"What do we do now?" Perdiccas asked.

Ptolemy sighed. "We wait."


	3. Chapter 3

Alexander stirred and woke, blinking his eyes against the light. He tried to sit up, but his body felt as if it was being held down, and his muscles screamed in pain with the effort. With a deep groan, he lay back, lifting his head just enough to look at his surroundings. He was expecting to see Hephaestion sitting next to him in that beautiful apple orchard, but that isn't what he saw.

He was lying in a bed, covered with thick furs. He could smell incense burning, and wrinkled his nose at the heavy scent. The room was opulent. Was this his own room? It was hard to think.

Why am I in this bed? he wondered. Why does everyone look so sad? What's wrong? He tried to sit up again, but couldn't manage it. His entire body hurt, and he was completely exhausted. He saw Ptolemy speaking with Philip, both with grave expressions. Philip was shaking his head. A noise on the other side of the bed caught his attention, and Alexander turned to see Bagoas, sitting on a cushion beside the bed, tears streaming down his face. Why was he crying?

Alexander opened his mouth to speak, but found that he couldn't. His throat tightened up and it was hard to breathe.

What was going on? Where was Hephaestion?

His breathing became more labored as he tried yet again to sit up, anxious and quite frankly afraid.  
He saw Nearchus approach the bed, followed by Ptolemy.

"He's restless again."

Ptolemy nodded. "I think he was trying to sit up, but he can't do it. Gods…" he sighed heavily, "this is a nightmare."

Alexander was alarmed. What was going on? Why couldn't he move? Why couldn't he speak? Why was his whole senior staff lining the wall at the back of the room? Why were there tears in Ptolemy's eyes?

A strange feeling washed over him, chilling him to the bone, and he felt his entire body tremble. He was hot to the touch, yet still shivering, a cold sweat dampening his skin.

Suddenly, an icy fear gripped his heart. Was he…was he dying?

"Hephaestion? Hephaestion! Where are you?" In his mind he was shouting, but to those in the room, only ragged breathing and muffled sounds were heard. "Hephaestion! You said you'd never leave me!"

Alexander felt panic setting in and was trying desperately to sit up when, from the shadows and seemingly out of nowhere, Hephaestion walked towards him. He smiled gently at Alexander as he approached the bed.

"I didn't. I've been here all along. I've never left you, even when you couldn't see me. I was there."

Alexander noted that Hephaestion looked young and healthy, and his skin was unblemished with the scars of war. His eyes sparkled that unearthly blue he loved so much, and his hair shone like burnished bronze.

"Hephaestion, am I…?" Alexander couldn't finish the sentence. "That place we were, that orchard, was that…is that where I'm supposed to go?" He frowned slightly. "There is so much I wanted to do, Hephaestion."

Hephaestion nodded sympathetically. "I know, but sometimes the gods have other plans for us." He smiled. "Paradise isn't so bad."

Alexander pondered that thought. If he was honest with himself, he really was weary from the constant wars, and frustrated with an army that was slowly turning against him. Perhaps Hephaestion was right. He was always right.

"I'm so tired, Hephaestion" Alexander sighed softly.

Hephaestion reached out his hand. "Come on, Alexander. Let's go home."

Ptolemy and Perdiccas were the only two still standing close to the bed, while the others lingered in the back of the room, unsure of what to do.  
They watched as Alexander blinked and sat up, reaching out his hand as if to grasp something. Alexander smiled the happiest smile they had ever seen on his face, curling his fingers around some invisible object. Before the men could react, Alexander closed his eyes with a contented sigh, lay back down on the bed, released a long, slow breath…and breathed no more.

Perdiccas and Ptolemy looked at each other in stunned silence, then looked back at Alexander. He looked completely at peace for the first time in weeks.

Perdiccas blinked back tears. "May the gods keep you, Alexander." He turned to Ptolemy. "I hope he found what he was reaching for."

Ptolemy smiled the slightest of smiles, a secret knowledge in his eyes. "He did."


End file.
